Yu Chengyao – A song in the clear river
Brambles – “Salt Photographs”
Charcoal
Another subdued album of what might be called ‘enhanced chamber music’ from the label that owns that space, Serein. This song, the longest on Charcoal, combines atmospheric noise and percussion with delicate and precisely-placed strings and keyboards. I love the transition and slow build, like a cross between early A Silver Mt Zion and label-mates Nest — a nearly flawless ambient work. (serein)
Never did men wear greater breeches or carry less in them of any mettle whatsoever.
Some of the more awkward illustrations from an old Chinese book of animals
One sometimes gets the impression that deconstruction is a kind of game that anyone can play. One could, for example, invent a deconstruction of deconstructionism as follows: In the hierarchical opposition, deconstruction/logocentrism (phono-phallo-logocentrism), the privileged term “deconstruction” is in fact subordinate to the devalued term “logocentrism,” for, in order to establish the hierarchical superiority of deconstruction, the deconstructionist is forced to attempt to represent its superiority, its axiological primacy, by argument and persuasion, by appealing to the logocentric values he tries to devalue. But his efforts to do this are doomed to failure because of the internal inconsistency in the concept of deconstructionism itself, because of its very self-referential dependence on the authority of a prior logic. By an aporetical Aufhebung, deconstruction deconstructs itself.
Bach – “Ei! wie schmeckt der Coffee süße”
BWV 211, the “Coffee Cantata”
Ei! wie schmeckt der Coffee süße, / Ah! how sweet coffee tastes!
Lieblicher als tausend Küsse, / Lovelier than a thousand kisses,
Milder als Muskatenwein. / smoother than sweet muscatel.
Coffee, Coffee muss ich haben, / Coffee, I must have coffee,
Und wenn jemand mich will laben, / and if someone wants to treat me,
Ach, so schenkt mir Coffee ein! / ah! my cup with coffee fill! (wiki)
Bergen to Oslo; original quarter-terabyte 7-hour movie here
I would like to believe that hashish persuades nature to permit us — for less egoistic purposes — that squandering of our existence that we know in love. For if, when we love, our existence runs through nature’s fingers like golden coins that she cannot hold and lets fall so that they can thus purchase new birth, she now throws us, without hoping or expecting anything, in ample handfuls, toward existence.